FiveHundred and SeventyTwo Miles
by A Phrase That Cuts These Lips
Summary: Twelve months shouldn't seem so long, but when your boyfriend is five-hundred plus miles away, they drag on forever. Five times Blaine and Kurt thought they couldn't make it work, and one time they knew they could.


**A/N: **I wrote this for the KB Holidays Secret Santa exchange, for facingyourfailure on tumblr! Reveals were posted today so I figured I could post it here too. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>1.<strong>

Kurt is leaving.

Blaine has had weeks, months, a _year_ to prepare for this. But now they're at the airport, and the flight is boarding, and he can't seem to let go of his boyfriend.

"I'll call as soon as I get there," Kurt promises, his hands moving in soothing circles across Blaine's back. "As soon as the plane lands, even."

Blaine nods and nuzzles his face even deeper into the crook of Kurt's neck. "And we'll Skype as soon as possible."

"And I'll be back for Christmas break." They've been over all of this a hundred times, but none of it seems real. Blaine isn't even sad, exactly - how can he be when Kurt has wanted this for years? - but watching Kurt get on that plane is going to feel like getting his heart ripped out_._

"I wish I could go with you," he murmurs. He doesn't wish that Kurt was staying, could never wish that on him, but he wants to be in New York _so much._

Kurt kisses Blaine's jaw, and his forehead, and his cheek. "Just twelve months."

"Twelve months," he echoes. It's not so long, in the grand scheme of things, so why does it seem like forever?

A real kiss this time, deep and slow and lingering, and for once, Blaine doesn't even care that they're in public or that Kurt's family is watching them. He wraps his arms around Kurt's neck and _clings_ to him. He keeps pressing little kisses against Kurt's lips even after they part, until Kurt has to pull away after a tap on the shoulder from Burt.

"You'd better hurry, kiddo; you don't want to miss the flight."

Kurt nods, and, from this close, Blaine can see his eyes glistening. He sniffles a little.

"Okay."

He turns and accepts hugs from Carole and Finn, nodding when they offer words of encouragement. His hug with Burt lingers the longest. "I'm so proud of you, Kurt," Burt says quietly, voice wobbling, and Blaine has to look away.

A bored female voice booms over the intercom, announcing that the last few stragglers need to get on the plane. Kurt breaks away from Burt and throws his arms around Blaine one last time. His strong arms squeeze the air out of Blaine's lungs, but Blaine gives as good as he gets. "I could take a year off," he says, voice muffled by Blaine's shoulder. "I could stay until you graduate. We could go together."

"No you can't," Blaine says. He wouldn't, not unless Blaine begged him to, and even then… "You're already enrolled."

Kurt sniffles again. His fingers twist into the fabric of Blaine's shirt. "Yes, but you could've asked."

Blaine laughs because if he doesn't laugh he'll surely cry, and lets his arms drop away. "Go on." He whispers, lifting Kurt's hand and kissing his palm. "Go be amazing." He specifically doesn't say goodbye. _Goodbye_ seems so final, and this isn't forever.

It's only twelve months.

"I love you."

"I love _you."_

Kurt smiles weakly and turns around. He breathes in deep and squares his shoulders (broad, _man_-shoulders – Blaine has had the honor of watching Kurt grow and yet right now he looks so _young_) – and then he's gone. He doesn't look back.

Blaine does cry a little once the plane takes off. He thinks about going home and going back to McKinley where he now knows maybe three people, all in Glee Club; thinks about trying to be strong when the person who _makes _him strong is miles away; thinks about Kurt in the city all alone, trying to make a brand new life for himself.

Burt's strong hand on his shoulder grounds him. "He misses you, too," he murmurs, which somehow _doesn't _make things easier. "It's just one year."

Blaine nods.

_Just one year._

**2.**

Winter comes faster in New York. It's startling for a Midwestern boy, but Kurt adores it, just like he adores everything that accentuates how NYC is completely different from Lima. (The lack of endless fields of corn and cows is high on the growing list.) He's sure that there are things about New York he'll come to hate eventually, but so far, he's still in awe of the city, which looks especially gorgeous at Christmastime.

With five shopping bags dangling from his arms, Kurt stumbles his way into his dorm room, bumping the door with his hip to close it. His roommate glances up from the textbook he's been aimlessly staring at since Kurt left for to shop for gifts (the shopping in New York being high on his list of things to love as well). "Whoa, dude. Do you actually embody _every _gay stereotype imaginable?"

"Shut up." Kurt rolls his eyes. He had begged to be put with a girl roommate, but it went against the school's policies. Jonathan isn't too bad, just kind of a doofus. He reminds Kurt a little of Finn in that he's so eager to prove that he's 'cool with the whole gay thing' that it gets borderline offensive sometimes.

Kurt wobbles over to where his computer is lying closed on his bed and flicks it open, grinning when he sees that Blaine is logged in to Skype. He puts in the call without stopping to put down his bags, and within seconds, Blaine's pixel-y face appears on the screen.

"Hi there, jailbait boyfriend," Kurt says happily.

"Hey, you." Blaine's face looks a little tight, but his eyes are animated as they drift toward the bags from which Kurt is in the process of disentangling himself. "Any of those for me?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out when I come home." He shoves the bags to one side and lies on his belly, smiling at Blaine. "Merry one-month-'til-Christmas!"

"Is that the boyfriend?" Jonathan appears above Kurt's shoulder, making him jump. "Sup, bro?"

"Um -"

"Jonathan, you do _not_ get to intrude on my Skype conversations. _Go away_!" Kurt bats at him until he retreats to his side of the room and continues to stare at his textbook. "Don't mind my roommate, he's an idiot."

Blaine raises an eyebrow suspiciously. "He's straight, right?"

"If the magazines under his bed are anything to go by." Kurt glances at his roommate and smirks at the shocked look on Jonathan's face. "You have nothing to worry about, trust me."

Blaine smiles, settling back into his desk chair. "How are you?"

"Good. Busy. I think I underestimated how hard college was going to be."

"I think everyone does."

"The amount of reading I have to do is _insane_. And the teachers actually _read _your papers."

"The horror!"

Kurt sets his chin in his hands. "What about you? How's Ohio?"

Blaine shrugs. "Weird. Boring. It's… well, you know. Ohio."

He's only this reluctant to share his thoughts when there's something weighing on his mind, but Kurt isn't sure how to ask. "You're in Glee again, right? How's that going?" he prompts.

This lights Blaine up, if only a little. "Oh, it's great. I guess winning Nationals encouraged a lot of kids to try out this year. I mean, Glee is probably never going to be _cool, _but…" He shrugs. "It's just really neat to be one of the people helping these kids develop their talent. There's this little freshman - they're so _tiny, _were we that tiny? - and I don't think he's out yet or anything, maybe not even to himself, but he reminds me so much of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He was so timid the first few weeks, but now he's so much more confident." Blaine smiles. "It's just really cool."

Kurt suddenly has the image of Blaine in Mr. Schuester's position – teaching a bunch of misfits and helping them come into their own. He knows that Blaine doesn't know what he wants to do with his life yet, but Kurt can easily imagine him as a teacher. "Don't be too charming or he'll fall in love with you," Kurt says, throat tightening for reasons he can't explain.

Blaine winks. "You know I can't help it; I'm naturally charming."

"Until one gets to know you, yes." Blaine sticks his tongue out, proving Kurt's point.

Something in the exchange is strained; most of their conversations have been since he left, though there are plenty of lighter moments like these to help diffuse the tension. Kurt fights the growing lump rising in his throat. Out of everything he loves about New York, he would trade all of the good things just for Blaine to be there. "I miss you," he says softly.

Blaine's expression softens. "I miss you, too," he says. "But I'm glad that New York is so good for you."

Kurt nods. "It is; I just wish you were closer. But at least there's Christmas coming up. Speaking of which, you're still coming over to my parent's house for dinner on Christmas Day, right? Not that we can't see each other before then; I just need to know how many we're cooking for…"

"Uh." Blaine shifts uncomfortably. "Actually."

"What?" Kurt furrows his brow.

"I'm not sure I'll be in Ohio for Christmas break. My dad is talking about flying us out to California to visit my grandparents or something."

Kurt swallows. "…Oh." On the other side of the room, Jonathan seems to sense the shift in mood and slips out their door.

"Couldn't you stay home?" Kurt asks softly. "Or you can stay with my family if you can't be home alone, they won't mind -"

Blaine shakes his head, and Kurt's spirits sink even lower than before. "I tried - and I'll try again, I promise - but…" Kurt turns away. "Hey, Kurt…"

"I was just… really looking forward to it," he mumbles.

"I know, I know - I was, too. And like I said, I'll try and talk to him, but all of the sudden my dad wants us to spend Christmas 'together, as a _family.'_" He rolls his eyes. Family has never meant the same thing to Blaine as it has to Kurt, but it's no wonder when he barely even sees his parents.

"I thought that was supposed to be what Thanksgiving is about." Blaine shrugs helplessly.

Kurt rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, though there aren't tears to wipe away. "Will I get to see you at all while I'm in town?" He hates how small his voice sounds.

"I don't know; I guess it'll depend on when our flights leave."

The one thing he had been looking forward to for months, the one thing that was getting him really excited about the holidays – and, all at once, it's gone. Kurt wasn't even going home for Thanksgiving; he had opted to save his money so that he could spend more time at home during Christmas, so seeing Blaine then is out, too. Twelve months - ten, now - is starting to stretch out even longer than before.

Kurt swallows again, determined not to cry in front of Blaine, even over a webcam. "Okay, then."

"Kurt, I'm really sorry."

"Please don't be, I'm - I'm not em_mad; _just disappointed. It's not your fault. And hey, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?" Except Kurt has never really believed that, romantic as it sounds. Because eventually, you have to get used to not having something, and eventually, it's as if you never had it at all. What if, when he finally does see Blaine, things have changed so much that they just don't work anymore? Absence makes the heart _ache_, maybe, but _fonder_...

"I love you," Blaine says, bringing him back to reality. "Even if Christmas doesn't work out, maybe I can figure out some way to visit you. Or something."

"That would be nice, if you can. But if it's inconvenient or too expensive…" Kurt forces a smile. "Don't go to that kind of trouble just for me."

The silence stretches out, until Blaine clears his throat. "I… I guess I should let you get to your studying. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Of course." Kurt blows him a kiss, which makes Blaine smile. "Talk to you soon."

Immediately after the call ends and Blaine's face vanishes, Kurt realizes that he hadn't said 'I love you' back. He snatches up his phone and sends a quick text, with a few extra _xoxo_s for good measure, but it doesn't feel quite the same.

**3.**

Senior year is hard, even with the mediocre education that McKinley offers. On top of all the homework he has, he and Tina and Artie have unofficially taken it upon themselves to help teach the new, younger Glee kids when Mr. Shue's lessons are lacking. Blaine has a lot on his plate, but, the way he sees it, it will only prepare him for college later.

College. Where his boyfriend is waiting for him.

Blaine shuts his locker and leaves school for the day, a smile on his face as he crosses the parking lot and climbs into the car. Kurt would bitch him out if he caught Blaine talking on the phone while driving, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, and anyway, he's eager to tell Kurt about the songs they're rehearsing for Regionals. They're _amazing _songs, and the new kids are doing so well with the choreography - he's ridiculously proud of the whole group. Mr. Schuester will never be the best teacher, but at least he's come up with a couple of new lesson themes this year. It's something.

Blaine dials in Kurt's number from memory and holds it up to his ear as he pulls out of the parking lot. The phone rings four, five, six times. He frowns. Kurt is never without his phone, and it never takes him this long to pick up. Just when Blaine is ready to leave a voicemail he hears a click, and then Kurt's voice, crackly over the phone but still bright. "_Apologies, my phone was in the very bottom of my bag - hi! What's up?"_

"Hey." Blaine grins. "Not much. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"_Aww. You're very sweet."_ He sounds flustered.

"Everything okay?"

"_Oh, well, you know - college life."/em? _He doesn't know, actually, but Kurt doesn't give him time to point that out before he continues_. "I'm buried under assignments. Four papers due, all for things that don't affect my career in any way - why they feel the need to assign _everythin_g at the same time, I honestly don't know. Looks like I'll be pulling an all-nighter."_

"I'm sorry."

"_Don't be. I'll manage."_

Blaine relaxes back into his seat. "So, our song selection for Regionals is off the hook -"

"_Hey, Blaine," _Kurt interrupts. "_Could I maybe call you later?"_

"Oh. Uh, okay."

"_Just – I know we'll end up talking for hours, which is lovely, but I need to make a dent in these papers, and if I can get some time to rehearse for this audition that would be great, so…"_

He hadn't even _heard _about this audition yet. "No, no, it's… it's fine."

"_Are you sure?" _It doesn't sound like he's really asking, too distracted to listen for a real answer.

"Yeah, of course. Your education is important." It's not supposed to sound bitter, but it comes out that way anyway. Kurt doesn't pick up on it.

"_Thank you, sweetheart. I'll call you tonight. I love you!"_

"Love you."

Kurt's voice disappears. Blaine sighs, tossing his phone into the passenger seat. It's not even that big of a deal – it _shouldn't _be. He's sure that there will be times when he's too busy to talk to Kurt.

But that doesn't stop it from hurting. Because sometimes, lately, it doesn't seem like Kurt is waiting for Blaine in New York.

It seems like he's moving forward without him.

**4.**

Kurt pulls up Skype to see that Blaine is online and waiting for him. He answers the call, and when the picture appears, all Kurt can see for a moment is a blur as Blaine sits down at his desk, grinning and waving at him. On his knee, he balances a chubby, dark-haired baby dressed in blue overalls.

"Hey!" Blaine says.

"Hi. Are you busy?"

"Nah. I'm just babysitting my nephew for a bit. This is Leroy." He bounces the baby up and down.

"Hi, Leroy." Kurt waves at him. Leroy gurgles a little in response, and Blaine's grin grows even wider. "I didn't even know you had a nephew."

Blaine nods. "His dad isn't around, so my older sister has been having me watch him some weekends so that she can work extra. I love it." Leroy pushes himself up on his knees to grab at Blaine's curls, tugging on them. Blaine lets him get away with it for a moment or so before he disentangles the tiny fingers from his hair, handing him a little plastic rattle instead. Leroy stares at with an expression that Kurt clearly reads as "_really, bitch?" _and throws it petulantly at on the floor. Blaine just picks it up patiently. He's probably done this a thousand times already that day, but the joke hasn't gotten old for Leroy, so it mustn't be old for Blaine.

"He's cute," Kurt comments. Blaine nods, looking down at Leroy fondly. He hugs Leroy around his round waist, looking content when Leroy snuggles back into his arms. Kurt likes watching the way Blaine acts around his nephew, like it's some huge gift to hold a baby. "I had no idea you were so good with kids."

Blaine shrugs, looking sheepish. "I don't know. I like them. I don't get a lot of chances to hang out with little kids, so it's fun. And good practice for when I have my own someday."

Kurt tilts his head to the side, studying Blaine's face, but he's already focused on the baby again, who has decided that gnawing on Blaine's finger with his gums is a good idea. He's kind of vicious about it, and Kurt has the passing thought that he fears for the day when the kid has real teeth. Blaine doesn't seem to mind. "You want children?" Kurt asks.

"Well, yeah. I mean. Someday. When the time is right." Blaine looks up at Kurt through girlish eyelashes, suddenly hesitant. "You ever thought about it?"

"Not really," he admits. He hasn't had the chance to be around kids often, and, like having a boyfriend and getting married, it's something that, until recently, he had pushed to the back of his mind until he'd be in a place where such things were even possible. It's not an entirely unappealing idea - he doesn't have a problem with kids, nor does he feel strongly toward having them - but still one he'd rather wait to think about. "Maybe someday."

"I'd always imagined myself with a boy and a girl," Blaine muses. "But I'd be happy no matter what, I think."

"A girl," Kurt says absently. "Someone I could spoil rotten."

"You could make dresses for her and I could teach her how to play football."

"Flag football, I hope. My child is not getting tackled."

Blaine laughs, and their eyes meet. It clicks into place what they're actually talking about, what _Blaine _means. Kurt is good at reading Blaine, and he knows that Blaine is far away right now, imagining a future version of himself - themselves - with a child, or children, of their own. In Kurt's head, she's a little girl in a powder blue dress, the spitting image of Blaine.

It steals the breath from his lungs, how vivid it is.

And it terrifies him.

And it's not even a bad thing, so he doesn't know why he's so scared. This is _good - _it means that Blaine is looking toward the future, that there _is _a future. It means that Blaine is as serious about this as Kurt is, because Kurt _is _serious. He fully plans to spend as many years as possible with Blaine.

But, for whatever reason, it _hits_ him, harder than ever before, that _he is going to spend the rest of his life with this man. _He's going to marry him, if all goes well. Years down the road, maybe, there will be a child. Whatever happens, they're going to do it together. He met his soul mate at seventeen years old, and this can't actually be real because things like this do _not _happen to him, or to anyone.

If this is such a good thing (and it is, in his heart he knows that it is), why does he feel like he should be running away?

"Kurt?" He blinks, shaking his head as Blaine looks at him, concerned. "Still on planet Earth?"

Kurt nods. His throat is suddenly dry. "Yeah," he says, too quickly. "I'm fine."

"I should probably go, Leroy is getting hungry and then he'll need a nap," he says apologetically. Leroy continues to make a valiant effort at devouring Blaine's hand.

"Oh, yes, sure." Kurt shouldn't feel as relieved as he does, but he feels so closed in, like he can't quite breathe.

"I'll call later if I can."

"Sure. I love you."

"Love you, too. Say bye, Leroy!" Leroy grunts, which Blaine seems to think is good enough. He blows Kurt a kiss and presses a button on his keyboard, and is gone.

Kurt leans back in his chair, finally able to breathe freely. _What is wrong with you? _ He thinks at himself, angry at how scared he suddenly is. _This is just stupid. You love him; you _want _to be with him forever! Stop freaking out!_

It just seems so… set in stone, now.

He groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as Jonathan walks into the room, tossing his backpack onto his bed. "Rough day?" He asks, glancing over at Kurt. "Too much studying?"

"Let's go with that." Kurt sighs. "I need to get out of this stupid room."

"Damn right you do. You're in college, bro. You're supposed to be going out to parties and stuff."

"I'm not big on parties."

Jonathan shrugs. "Suit yourself. Hey, there's a gay club down the street from here." Kurt rolls his eyes, but keeps listening. "I think they're having an underage night tonight, actually."

"Wouldn't the fact that I can't drink kind of ruin the point?"

"Just get the dudes that will be all over your sweet ass to buy drinks for you."

The sound that comes out of Kurt's mouth is somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "I swear you are the gayest straight man I have ever met."

Jonathan shrugs. "I'm just saying, bro. If you need to blow off some steam, that's the way to do it."

Kurt stares up at the ceiling. On one hand, he's not sure how he feels about bars and clubs, or, more accurately, the people who frequent them. On the other hand, his life since moving to New York has essentially been homework, missing Blaine, auditioning for various plays and never getting callbacks, comforting a hysterical Rachel every time she got the same reaction, and more homework. He _hasn't _done anything fun for himself. Maybe that's why he freaked out - maybe it's not about Blaine and their future together at all, just his tension building up.

He needs to relax.

"Where is this club?"

* * *

><p>His first impression of the place is <em>loud. <em>Some song he vaguely recognizes from the radio plays over the speakers, the heavy bass beat pulsing forcefully through him. The dance floor is packed, and Kurt can't help but stare for a moment, a little overwhelmed by the amount of boys who are just like him.

It's a little quieter by the bar, so he lingers there, just observing all the different sorts of people. He feels very young, even though it did turn out to be, as Jonathan had said, underage night. He wishes that Blaine were there.

"You look lonely."

Kurt jumps at the voice, turning to see a man standing next to him. "Oh, um. Hi," Kurt stammers, quiet over the heavy music. The man is _very_ attractive, Kurt notices from a purely objective level – lean and muscular with thick, gorgeous hair, his shirt clinging to his chest in all the right places. His eyes are the same color as Blaine's, but Kurt doesn't feel the need to get lost in them like he does with his boyfriend.

"Hi." He grins, sticking out his hand. "I'm Marc."

"Kurt." Kurt shakes it, watching the other man warily. "And no, not lonely, just… okay, maybe a little."

Marc laughs, and Kurt feels himself relax a little. "It can be overwhelming if you haven't been to a place like this before. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

"Thank you." Kurt glances around. Why is this guy talking to him when there are tons of hot boys around? "So, um, you come here often?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Marc shrugs, taking a little sip of the drink in his hand. Obviously old enough to drink, then. "So, Kurt. Can I get you a drink?"

"Oh." He hesitates, but there's no good reason to say no. He won't have to drive, after all. "I'm underage," he says uneasily.

"How much underage?"

"Twenty," Kurt says automatically. He's not sure why he feels the need to lie, just that nineteen seems so, so young. "I mean, um. Just had my birthday." _Pathetic, _he thinks.

Marc smirks, and Kurt shifts around uncomfortably. "I'll be back." Kurt's eyes follow him to the bar, watching as he orders and then comes back with two colorful, fruity drinks. He hands one to Kurt, who looks at it warily. "Try it. No roofies, I promise."

"That's encouraging," Kurt mumbles, but the drink looks no different from Marc's, and anyway, he _did_ watch the entire time as the bartender had mixed the drinks. He takes a sip. It's sickly sweet, but the flavor isn't bad, making him shiver as it goes down.

They continue to talk, Marc continues to bring him drinks, and Kurt gets less nervous with each one. Sometime during the conversation, Kurt realizes that Marc is flirting with him. It's a bizarre feeling; he doesn't think someone other than Blaine has ever flirted with him. and Blaine flirts constantly, but that's different. It's strange, but not entirely unpleasant, the idea that someone might like him, even if he can't reciprocate. The more he drinks, the less he is able to tell if he is flirting back, which is a bit of a problem - he doesn't want to lead anyone on.

"Hey," Marc says suddenly, his eyes dark when he looks at Kurt. He nods toward the dance floor. "Dance with me," He says, his voice low.

He hesitates for a second, but - well, it's just dancing. It's harmless, just like the flirting. Nothing is going to come of it. Kurt downs the rest of his drink, shivering again as it slides down - he's not stupid enough to leave it unattended - and follows Marc out to the floor.

Kurt doesn't know what he's doing, but he's just drunk enough that he doesn't care much. Tonight is supposed to be about fun, about forgetting the stress of his everyday life for a moment. So he lets go, hands above his head, letting the beat of the music fill him up and tell him how to move among the mass of twisting, sweaty boy-bodies, what to do when Marc moves in closer, dancing _with _him, not next to him. After a minute or so, his hands find their way to Kurt's waist, guiding him along, and, for whatever reason, Kurt decides to put a hand around the back of Marc's neck to keep him close, his back pressed up against Marc's front, and all around him is _hothothot._ He thinks they might be grinding a little, but in his head, it's still harmless. Dancing is _really _nice.

"You're good at this," Marc breathes out, hot and wet against Kurt's neck - he can't help but squirm away from it a little. "So hot."

"…Oh." What does one _say_ to that? He liked it better when they were just dancing, so that's what he keeps doing. Marc has different ideas, though, and suddenly he's leading Kurt through the mass of bodies, off the dance floor - maybe they're going to get another drink? Another drink sounds nice, suddenly. But then they're past the bar (Kurt looks back at it longingly) and - oh, this is the bathroom, okay. Why are they in the bathroom?

Marc looks different under the harsh fluorescent lights, less alluring. Before Kurt can ask what they're doing, he presses Kurt back against the wall he'd leaned on, so close, too close. His hands are on Kurt, everywhere at once, and then their hips press flush against each other, and then all of the sudden they're kissing.

It's weird. His lips aren't as soft as Kurt is used to, too demanding, and his hands are too big, the biceps underneath Kurt's palms thicker than he's accustomed to touching. He kisses back automatically, because the lips don't seem to be going anywhere soon, but it doesn't feel right, and Kurt would really like to be able to breathe, even just through his nose, but the scent of his sweat and cologne is overwhelming. Blaine would have started with light kisses, working up to these intense ones, giving him time to breathe. Those hands are touching all the wrong places. Marc's hips rock up, his hard-on unmistakable against Kurt's hip.

Kurt jerks his mouth away with a gasp, pushing at Marc's shoulders. The effort goes unnoticed. He kisses down Kurt's neck, stubble scratching unpleasantly. "Hey, wait." Kurt says. His voice is hoarse and weak until he clears his throat. "No - _stop!"_

Marc finally gets the message, putting a few inches between himself and Kurt. "Problem?" He raises his eyebrows.

Kurt swallows. "I can't. I don't - I don't want to." Why does he sound so pathetic, so - so _young? _

"Sure you do. Feels good, right?"

He can't deny that, but he also feels claustrophobic, and it's not good the way Blaine's lips and hands are good. He would be happy to dry hump Blaine against a bathroom wall (maybe a slightly cleaner one), but this, this isn't right. "I have a boyfriend," Kurt says firmly. Oh _god. _He just made out with something who isn't Blaine. Part of him is glad it felt so wrong.

Marc shrugs. "So do I. Come on, babe -" He leans in again, and this time Kurt shoves at him, ducking out of the way before he can be kissed again.

"No," Kurt says loudly. "I said _no, _you creep!"

"Fine, whatever." He rolls his eyes. "Fuckin' prude." He walks away, leaving Kurt alone. Fuck, he's _alone _in here, he's alone in this club – he got off lucky, but if something had happened, if Marc hadn't listened and backed off, no one would have come to help him.

He feels sick. He goes back inside long enough to find his coat and leaves the club through the back door - there's a security guard, but he lets Kurt by with a smile - and leans over in the alleyway, stomach heaving violently. He takes a deep breath when he doesn't feel like he's about to puke anymore and starts walking, and doesn't stop until he's in a public place.

He leans against a wall and tries to stop shaking. How could he be so _stupid?_ That's all he is – a stupid little kid who can't tell when to stop flirting with handsome, older men.

He wants Blaine to be there, _needs_ him. Before he can think about it, he pulls out his cell, ready to dial Blaine's number, but something stops him. It's one o'clock in the morning; Blaine will be asleep, and anyway, he can't call Blaine like this, drunk and hysterical. It will only worry him. He sighs and puts his phone back in his pocket.

Does this count as cheating? Kurt doesn't know. He had kissed back, at first, but he had immediately said no. It wasn't _intentional _cheating, but would Blaine see it that way?

Before he does anything else, he needs to get back to the dorm and sleep. Wrapping his arms around himself and shivering in the night air despite his coat, he starts the walk back. It's only two blocks, and soon Kurt is in front of his door. He knocks loudly. "Jonathan, let me in," he shouts.

A minute later, the door opens, revealing his yawning roommate. "Kurt?" He says stupidly. Kurt steps past him, peeling off his coat and sweater in the now too-hot room. "You okay?"

"Not really." He pulls off his jeans next, too tired and drunk to care about his roommate, who politely looks away.

"Uh… anything I can do?"

He sinks down onto the bed, feeling tears well up in his eyes without warning. "I don't know," he sniffles. "I don't know anything - fuck, all I ever do is fuck things up. Does kissing count as cheating?"

Jonathan scratches his head. "I don't know, bro."

"I think I cheated on Blaine. I didn't mean to. I don't know what to do; he's going to hate me."

"Sleep it off, man. You'll feel better tomorrow." Jonathan yawns and lies back down, asleep within moments. Kurt rubs his eyes and crawls under his blankets, not bothering to go through his nightly skincare ritual. His roommate is right; he just needs sleep.

He's gone almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, but his dreams are confusing and troubled, full of faceless men with rough hands, and Blaine, staring at him with eyes full of disappointment, and no matter how he tries, he can't find the words to explain.

* * *

><p>"My mouth," Kurt croaks upon waking, "tastes like something died in it."<p>

"Yeah, that happens." Kurt winces at the voice piercing through his throbbing head, and cracks open one eye. Jonathan watches him from across the too-bright room.

"Am I dead?"

"No."

"Pity."

Jonathan laughs, too loudly, and hands him a mug of coffee and a water bottle. Kurt groans, sitting up and reaching for the water. "You're my favorite," he sighs, taking a sip to wash the stale taste from his mouth before grabbing the coffee. It's dark and bitter, but it cuts through the fog in his mind. Memories of the previous night return abruptly, and he sets the drink aside, feeling sick.

"Blaine," he mumbles. "I need to talk to him."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should wait until you feel better. Or maybe you shouldn't tell him."

Kurt shakes his head. He ignores the throbbing pain in his head and leans down, picking up his pants and pulling the phone out of his pocket. "I have to." He glances up at Jonathan. "Thank you for the coffee and everything."

"No problem, man."

"Could I have a moment alone?"

Jonathan nods and leaves the room. Kurt flinches at the sound of the door shutting, even though it can't be as loud as it seems. Taking a deep breath, he dials Blaine's number and waits for him to pick up.

"_Kurt? Wow, it's early."_

"Sorry." He hadn't even glanced at the clock. "I just… I needed you."

"…_Are you hungover?" _His voice sounds amused. Kurt feels his eyes prickle, and they've barely started the conversation.

"Please don't judge me."

"_Hey, I'm hardly one to judge."_ Blaine laughs. "_Have a good time?"_

Kurt sniffles. "Not really. Um. I need to tell you something and I'm being very mature by not keeping this from you because we always tell each other the truth, so please don't freak out at me because I don't think I could handle it right now."

A pause. "_Are you okay? You're not hurt?"_

"I'm fine, thank god, but… um; maybe I should just start from the beginning."

"_Okay, I'm listening."_

Kurt takes a deep breath. "I was feeling really stressed, so I decided to go to this club a few blocks away – a gay club. And there was this guy. We were talking, and I guess he was flirting with me, but I didn't know what to do, so I just sort of… let him flirt. And he kept buying me these really fruity drinks."

"_Oh."_ Blaine's voice already sounds tight. Kurt swallows hard and tries to continue.

"And, um, I danced with him. I didn't mean anything by it, it was just dancing. I'm sorry."

Blaine sighs. "_Kurt, I'm not going to get mad at you for dancing -"_

"There was grinding." Blaine is silent. Kurt barrels ahead, barely stopping for breath. "And then he dragged me into the bathroom and pushed me up against the wall and kissed me."

For a moment, the only sound is Blaine's breath. "_He _what_? Oh my god, Kurt…"_

"I think he wanted sex. But I didn't. Obviously. Because the only person I ever want to have sex with is you, and - you're being really quiet, please say something."

Blaine says nothing.

"I said no," Kurt clarifies. "If that wasn't clear. I said no, and he left me alone and I went back to my dorm and fell asleep. That's all that happened. Please say something."

"_Did you kiss him back?" _

It's not what he expects to hear. "I… yes, at first. I was surprised. But I told him no, Blaine."

"…_Fuck, Kurt."_

"You're mad. Why are you getting mad at me? I didn't cheat on you!"

"_You could have."_ Kurt wants to shrink away from his tone of voice, unaccustomed to the frustration in it being directed at him. "_Obviously some part of you was into him – you wanted to dance with him, after all, and fuck, there are so many gay people in New York, why wouldn't they want you -"_

"I wasn't _into _him!" Kurt's voice turns shrill, and he hates it. "Why are you being like this, I told him no and I'm being mature enough to _tell you _about this -"

"_I can't believe you would just go out and do that! You could have gotten hurt, he could have -"_

"If I was cheating on you, I wouldn't fucking _tell you about it,_ would I?"

Blaine's breath stutters harshly. "_If you're going out to clubs now, someday you're going to find someone who you want more than me, who's hotter and older and better than me, and you won't tell me about it when you hook up in the bathroom."_

"So you get to accuse me of cheating because you're insecure?" Kurt spat. "I only want you. You're being absurd. None of that is going to happen!"

"_It could! Or, god forbid, you'll run into someone who won't listen when you say no, someone who will hurt you…"_

"I know that, I _know._" Kurt wipes away the single hot tear trickling down his cheek. "Blaine, I'm _sorry._ I know it was stupid. But I really can't handle you being mad at me right now."

"_What did you expect to happen when you called to tell me you almost cheated on me?"_

"_Stop it! _I didn't cheat!" He means to yell, but it comes out in a messy, unattractive sob, and it takes a moment to compose himself before he can continue, voice shaking. "I love you, I would _never, _you know I would _never -_"

Blaine groans in frustration. "_No, I don't know that."_

"So you're allowed to flirt all you want with Sebastian but I'm not allowed to talk to any other guys?" He wants to reach out and take the words back as soon as he says them. He knows that Sebastian is a sore spot for both of them, a low blow. He lashed out and now he's going to have to pay. "Blaine, I didn't mean -"

"_I never kissed Sebastian, Kurt - Fuck. I should go."_

"No, don't - Blaine, I called you because I need my boyfriend right now, _please_."

"_I just need to think about this. You take care of yourself, get over your hangover, and I'll try to calm down a little. Before we both say things we regret."_

"Blaine -"

It's too late – the dial tone rings tunelessly in his ear. Kurt throws his phone across the room; it bounces off the wall and lands on Jonathan's bed, dissatisfying unharmed. He doesn't bother to retrieve it, just wraps his arms around his knees and lets the tears fall.

Blaine will never trust him again. Blaine will never _want _him again.

From one day to the next, he's managed to fuck up the very best thing in his life.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, this is Blaine. Leave a message after the beep. Beep!"<em>

Kurt takes a deep breath, frozen for a moment as he tries to figure out what to say. The library is silent, so he won't be interrupted. He closes his textbook, which he hadn't been able to focus on anyway - his thoughts are too full of Blaine - before he clears his throat and starts to speak. "Blaine. Hi. It's me. Um. I guess it's probably good that you didn't pick up. So, just… listen. Right.

"I know that… that the thought of me finding someone else freaks you out. It would freak me out, too. I understand why you're mad. But I only kissed him for maybe five seconds, because I was drunk and I didn't know what was happening, and then I pushed him away. I could never cheat on you - the thought of hurting you that way actually makes me _sick. _So, I'm sorry that I made you feel like that. I'm sorry for being stupid.

"Honestly, I'm scared of how much I love you sometimes. I went out to that club because talking about kids with you the other day really freaked me out - because it hit me how _real_ all of this is. You're _it _for me, Blaine Anderson. And that scared me, but the thought that you might not want me or trust me anymore because of this mess, that's – it's even scarier." He laughs shakily. "So I know you're angry. That's fine. But I just need you to know that I'm never giving up on this. I'm not giving up on _us, _because it's – _you_ are everything I want. I don't need to experiment with other guys, because I am _excited_ to spend the rest of my life with you, if you want me. I hope you do. I love you, Blaine. More than anything in this world. And… I'm here when you want to talk."

There are a hundred more things he wants so say to Blaine, but they'd be better said in person, anyway. He hangs up, drained but glad he did that before class began – otherwise, all of the things he'd needed to say would have distracted him from work.

He's still distracted, but only because he can't stop imagining all of the ways Blaine could break up with him. It's counterproductive, yes, but he can't help it. The longer he goes without a message from Blaine, the more anxious he becomes.

As he's leaving his final class for the day, his phone rings, Blaine's ringtone blaring out of his pocket. He snatches it with almost inhuman speed and brings it up to his ear before the first ring has faded. "Blaine?"

"Kurt," Blaine says, and Kurt doesn't know what that tone of voice is – a little wobbly and quiet. "Um. Hey."

Kurt swallows, suddenly embarrassed at how quickly he'd answered. "Hi." He sinks down onto the steps of the building his class was held in, heedless of the students rushing past.

"I… uh… I got your message." Kurt's heart feels like it's about to leap up his throat and strangle him. "Did you... really mean all of that?"

Kurt nods, then feels like an idiot, because obviously Blaine can't see him. "Of course I did."

Blaine lets out a sigh – one of relief, Kurt hopes. "I - I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean it." His voice is so small.

"It's okay." For the first time that day, Kurt manages to smile. "And I'm sorry about what I said about Sebastian; it wasn't fair."

"I wasn't angry, really; I was _scared._"

"Scared?"

"Uh-huh. Like - of course I can't stop you from going to clubs, that would be stupid, but I couldn't stop thinking about all the ways you could have been hurt, and – I just freaked out."

"Yeah. I really am sorry about that; it was stupid. I won't go back unless I have someone sober with me, I promise."

"Thank you."

The silence is awkward, so Kurt breaks it as quickly as possible. "You can admit that you were scared of me cheating, too," he says gently. "It's okay."

"Kurt…" Blaine sighs, and there's a brief pause, as if he's trying to gather his thoughts into something coherent. "I can't help it. There are so many other options for you now. I can't really believe you want to stay with me. You're…" He exhales, a rush of static through the phone. "You're _it_ for me too, you know?"

Kurt can't help the smile that spreads across his face. "There are _no_ other options," he says firmly. "Not for me. Did I not make that clear? I only want you."

"But _why_?" Blaine asks, frustration obvious in his voice. "What's stopping you?"

Kurt thinks about it for a long minute. "I couldn't go through with it with Marc -"

"Oh, he has a name?"

"Hush, you. I couldn't do it because when he kissed me, or touched me, it just didn't do anything for me because all I wanted were _your _lips, _your _hands. Yes, he was attractive, but I wasn't _attracted _to him, because no one is more perfect to me than you are. I _like _that you're the only person who gets to make me feel that way, and vice versa. Maybe that makes me boring, but I really don't care. Monogamy is exciting for me."

Blaine laughs like he can't help it, and it's a beautiful sound, infectious. "Me too," he admits. "I shouldn't have accused you of that. I'm really sorry."

"No, you shouldn't have," Kurt agrees. "But _I'm _sorry for making you worry."

"I'm sorrier."

"No, I am."

"No, me."

"You're such a child," Kurt groans, but he smiles all the same. "We'll call it even."

"Deal."

Kurt stands up when the last of the students file away, beginning the short trek back to his dorm. "So… we're okay?" he asks hesitantly.

"We're okay," Blaine confirms. "And thank you for being honest with me."

"I always am."

"I know." Blaine sighs, and this time the silence that follows is more comforting than anything. Kurt lets it continue, just listening to the sound of Blaine's breathing as he walks. "I really wish that I was there right now."

Kurt feels the familiar lump rising in his throat, the one he always gets when he's reminded of how far away Blaine is. "Me too. We should get to kiss after we make up."

"I would kiss you if I could."

The lowness of his voice sends a tremor through Kurt, and he isn't sure why. "You would?"

"'Course I would."

"I want you to." He swallows. "So much."

"How much?" Blaine is teasing him now, but Kurt isn't about to let him win.

"_So _much. It's all I think about, actually," he admits. "Your lips, your… tongue…" He trails off, blushing.

Blaine hums. "I miss how you taste."

Kurt laughs lightly, nervously. "Really."

"When I see you, we're just going to kiss all the time to make up for this."

"How would you do it?" Kurt blurts out. He doesn't know what makes him say it, but it's out there now, and he just hopes that Blaine doesn't make fun of him.

"I - oh." Blaine hesitates. "Slow, I guess, at first. Savoring it. Reminding myself what it's like, what _you_ like."

"Tongue?"

"Mm. Yeah, tongue. Want to taste you."

"I wouldn't want to stop, once we got started." He's outright _giggling_ now - god, what is wrong with him?

"God, no, never. I'd kiss your neck, too, and that spot behind your ear."

"Oh," Kurt breathes out once before he promptly forgets how. "Your jaw. Um. Where there's a little stubble. It's scratchy, but I like it."

Blaine's breathing quickens in time with Kurt's, and Kurt forgets where he is for a moment and has to stop to make sure he's still going to right way to the dorm. "I'd leave a hickey just high enough that your scarves won't cover it, dark enough that you can't hide it with makeup either. So that everyone knows they can't have you; that you're _mine._"

He's not sure what about that does it for him, but the roughness of Blaine's voice on that last word is certainly a factor. A whimper escapes him before he realizes that it's happening.

Blaine sucks in a sharp breath, loud through the tinny speaker. _Oh my god this is foreplay, we are totally having phone-foreplay, _Kurt thinks, giddy as he tries to think of what to say next.

"Blaine," he murmurs, hyper-aware of every change in Blaine's breathing. "I'm almost to my dorm - my computer - Skype," he finished, floundering. His brain must have short-circuited. "I think we should be on Skype for this." He doesn't need to clarify.

"I think you're right."

Kurt quickens his pace, heart pounding in anticipation. "Okay, um, keep talking. Don't touch yourself yet." He feels his face heat up in a blush. "Er, if that's something you were thinking about doing."

"Oh my _god, _Kurt. Um. Fuck, I don't know what to say."

"Anything…" He can see the dorm from here, why does it seem so far? "What do you want to do to me?"

"Fuck." It makes Kurt dizzy when he can reduce Blaine to this, diminish his vocabulary to swearing and dirty talk. "I want to kiss you, always. _Everywhere._"

"Where?"

"Down your neck, and your chest - my hands under your shirt, I just want to _feel _you."

"_Yes_," Kurt whispers. This shouldn't be so hot; this should be painfully awkward, so why isn't it? "I'm at my dorm, hang on," he says, fumbling for his key card and cradling the phone by his ear at the same time.

"I would press you up against the door, because we can't wait any longer -"

Kurt groans out loud. He finally gets the door open, and of course, Jonathan is there. "Hi, Jonathan, go away," he says, shutting the door more loudly than intended.

"What? Come on, man, I'm working on my paper!"

"You can leave or you can watch me jerk off with my boyfriend on Skype; it's up to you." He opens up his computer, logging into Skype as quickly as his fingers, shaking with nerves, will allow. On the other line, Kurt can hear Blaine cackling.

"On second thought, I think I'll finish this in the library." Jonathan snatches up his laptop and practically runs out of the room, locking the door behind him. Kurt drags his own computer over to the bed, collapsing next to it.

Blaine finally stops laughing, though his words come out breathless. "I really love you."

"That's nice. Answer my call, I swear-"

A few moments later Blaine finally appears on the screen, face flushed and nervous but smiling. Kurt hangs up his cell and looks at Blaine, suddenly shy now that he can finally see him. Maybe they should have stayed on the phone. "Hi."

"Aww, that's my sweater. You look adorable."

Kurt looks down at the ugly gray hoodie he had stolen from his boyfriend months ago. "_Adorable_ isn't exactly what we're going for right now."

"It is, though. I like it when you wear my clothes. I can't believe you'd wear that in public."

"I wear it on my bad days." He shrugs sheepishly. "It smells like you."

Blaine's smile could probably light up the world. "Are we really doing this?"

Kurt nods. "If you want."

"Of course I do," he says, low and dark, and the sound goes right to Kurt's cock. It's too hot in this room, always too hot. He tugs the sweater and the shirt underneath it off in one go, reveling in the sharp intake of breath he hears from the computer speakers. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Your turn?"

Blaine copies his movements, and Kurt lets his eyes roam over the expanse of skin, familiar but suddenly alien, and so far away. They're far from being virgins, but this is new. He'd always viewed phone sex as weird and awkward, which was why he had never initiated it until now, but, well. This is Skype sex. Maybe it's less awkward this way.

"I want to touch you," Blaine breathes, eyes trailing across Kurt's body.

"Uh-huh." Kurt is happy to let him take control of this, because he has no idea how to start.

"Over your clothes, to start, just feeling you – those jeans you wear are so tight, you can pretty much feel _everything._" Kurt reaches down between his legs where he's hard and aching, his breath shuddering as he traces the outline of his cock, squeezing lightly. He can't take his eyes off the screen, and while he can't see what Blaine's hand is doing, he can tell that Blaine is trying to shimmy out of his pants without getting up. "What are you thinking about?"

Kurt bites his lip, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them down and sighing in relief, though he thinks that the action, combined with Blaine's whisper of "_fuck, Kurt," _only make his cock more painfully hard.

"Kurt?"

"You," he gasps.

"Touch yourself for me, please, I want to _see…_" Blaine pleads, his pupils blown wide. Kurt shoves his underwear down with the pants, wrapping a hand loosely around the base of his cock. His hips jerk forward at the contact. It's been too long since he's done this - even jerking off in the bathroom seems awkward when you have a roommate - and just the lightest touch feels like so much. "Pretend it's my hand."

"It's always you." Kurt strokes experimentally, his fist a little tighter than he would normally make it but exactly the way Blaine tends to touch him. Blaine groans aloud, brings his hand up to lick a broad stripe across it, and then moves it back down again, the movement of his hand on his dick unmistakable. It's like an electric shock, and the sight of Blaine doing this to himself, the knowledge that he's imagining, remembering, the feel of Kurt's hand on him - fuck, the knowledge that Kurt can _still _do this to Blaine no matter the distance - makes this whole thing a hundred times hotter. "Always you, Blaine, I want you _so bad -"_

"I'm here; I'm yours, all yours." Blaine's hand picks up speed, and Kurt wants to tell him to angle the screen down so that he can _see, _but that would mean not looking at Blaine's beautiful face, and Kurt _really_ wants to see Blaine's face when he comes.

Kurt can't help but thrust into his fist, reaching up with his free hand to pinch at a sensitive nipple. He never takes his eyes off Blaine the whole time, and fuck, he looks so good like this, shameless and utterly debauched. Just from touching himself, from Kurt watching. Just from this.

Because he is _Blaine's_, Blaine is _his_, and they are the only ones who get to see each other like this. He gets to see Blaine at his most vulnerable and _fuck _does he love it.

"Kurt," Blaine moans. "I'm close, fuck, I'm _close_." Kurt would tease him any other time, but he's ridiculously close, too, and the sounds Blaine keeps making really aren't helping.

"Come on," he pants, shaking a little as he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock. "Let go, I want to see, come _on_…"

It doesn't take long, the motion of Blaine's hand faster than ever, and Kurt picks up his own pace without thinking about it. Blaine's mouth hangs open in a silent moan when he comes, eyes closed, entire body tensing with the pleasure overwhelming him. Kurt is right behind him, the sight of Blaine pushing him over, and he slumps forward as he comes into his fist, crying out and shaking.

Blaine seems to melt back into his chair, eyes still half closed. Kurt grabs a tissue and cleans off his hand before he lets himself go, sinking back down onto the bed and tugging the laptop closer. He's tired, but in the best way.

"Wow," Blaine murmurs.

Kurt laughs softly. "Yeah."

"I can't believe we just did that." He grins. "I love you so much."

"Love you, too." Kurt smiles sleepily. A part of him expects to be able to snuggle back into Blaine, like he somehow appeared out of thin air, but he can't. His smile turns sad. "I miss you."

Blaine swallows. Kurt can tell he's thinking the exact same thing. "Yeah."

Kurt props himself up on one elbow. "You really think we can make this work?" he asks quietly. "Being so far apart?"

"It's not long, now," Blaine points out. "You'll be coming back for summer break soon, and then I'll be coming home with you."

It fills Kurt with warmth, Blaine referring to New York as _home_ when he doesn't even live here yet. But they say home is where the heart is. Kurt supposes that Blaine's is with him, and maybe that's why New York doesn't exactly feel like home yet, no matter how in love with this city he is - because he left his heart in Ohio.

"It just seems so long," he says instead. "It hurts, missing you so much. I keep reaching out for you, just to hold your hand, and then I can't, and I -" His throat tightens, but he doesn't cry. "I don't even know why I left, sometimes. It's not worth it."

"Hey, hey," Blaine says, leaning forward. "Don't say that. Of course it's worth it; this is your dream. It's going to be fine."

"I hate this," Kurt whispers.

"I know, I know. But I believe in us, and I know we'll make it, Kurt, I _know_ it. We got this far without a fight, up 'til now, right? And we made up and had awesome phone sex." Kurt bites his lip, dropping his eyes and grinning. "We _can_ do this, Kurt. I know we can."

Kurt isn't so sure, sometimes, but Blaine looks so earnest, so _convinced, _that Kurt can't help but relax a little.

"Okay."

**5.**

All of Kurt's emails back and forth to Tina are about college and whether or not she should go to school where Mike does. It's that time of year, apparently, when the pressure to select and apply to colleges is the strongest, so it's only natural that the subject comes up in one of his conversations with Blaine.

"So where are you applying?" Kurt asks as he sits down on a bench, a cup of coffee in his hand and his cell phone in the other. He has a few hours between classes, so it's a perfect opportunity to sit in the park and talk to Blaine. "I'm sure you could get into Julliard, or at least NYU…"

"Actually…" Blaine begins. Kurt automatically tenses; that tone of voice usually means a disappointing or awkward conversation.

"Actually what?" Kurt asks cautiously.

Blaine clears his throat. "I've been talking with my dad."

"About?" Kurt prompts carefully. It's not that Blaine's father is a bad man, exactly, but he doesn't _get _it – Blaine, or Kurt, or "the whole gay thing" – and, worst of all he doesn't seem to have an interest in educating himself. His attitude towards Kurt falls somewhere between disinterested and downright cold, and his attitude towards his own son isn't much better.

"About college stuff. New York."

"Oh."

"He wants me to think about UCLA."

Kurt remains silent until he realizes that Blaine probably thinks he's disappeared. "That's in Los Angeles," he says, sparking a memory of Jesse St. James that would make him laugh if his brain wasn't working him into a panic.

"Yeah."

"That's on the other side of the country."

"Yeah."

Kurt sets his coffee down, stomach twisting and turning too much for him to want to drink it now. "Are you going to go?"

Blaine sighs. "I don't know. I mean, it's a great school, but… I just don't know."

"He's not going to _make _you go, is he?"

"No, no; just strongly encouraging it." Blaine assures him.

Kurt exhales slowly, trying to calm himself. "But… but we have _plans,_" he says, trying and failing not to sound desperate. "We're going to move in together, you and me and Rachel."

"I _know," _Blaine groans. "And it's not like I'm giving up on New York, okay, I'm just… Dad just wants me to weigh my options."

"I don't get why there are options to weigh -"

"Look, I'd always planned on going to California," Blaine interrupts. "Before we met and started talking about New York, I mean. California was always my plan. I've been there a lot, I have family there, they have all the programs I would want… I didn't tell you about it before because I didn't want to deter you from going to New York, because I know it's _your_ dream."

Kurt can feel himself start to shake, and he hates how pathetic he's being, but he just can't help it. "Am I just destined to never see you again?" Kurt manages. "We get the summer and that's it?"

"Kurt…"

"I just want to _be _with you. Why can't I just have that?"

"I know, baby. I know." He sounds just as miserable as Kurt is, just from making Kurt feel that way, but somehow, it doesn't help Kurt feel better.

He doesn't know what to say. He feels a little dizzy as his brain tries to keep up with the now very real possibility of another year, maybe more, of New York without Blaine. He imagines himself in California, but he can't make that work, either – New York City is already home.

Still, if Blaine needed him to… could he do it? Relationships are about compromise, and he's not Rachel – he can't make a choice between love and career so easily. More than that, though, he couldn't break it off with Blaine like Rachel had with Finn when he didn't follow her to New York.

He knows, deep down, that, if he asked, Blaine would follow him to the ends of the earth. But he doesn't want to have to ask; he _shouldn't_ have to. More than anything, he wants to be able to hug Blaine right now, like if he could just hold him tight enough, Blaine would stay with him.

"You should go." He surprises himself with the words, and Blaine, too. "If it's what you really want, you should go. You wouldn't try to keep me from my dreams, so I won't keep you from yours." His voice breaks a little; he can't quite believe what he's saying, though he knows it's the right thing.

Blaine doesn't answer for a long time, and when he does, it's barely more than a whisper. "But you're not there."Kurt chokes back tears, and doesn't reply. "God, what would we _do, _if I did go? What would happen to us?"

It almost hurts, that Blaine doesn't even seem to think about asking him to move to L.A. He knows exactly how much New York means to Kurt. "I…" Kurt fishes a tissue out of his coat pocket, wipes his nose, and sighs. "I don't know. I would want to try staying together, of course, but… I just don't know how to keep us from drifting apart."

"Yeah."

"I've survived this long knowing that I get to have you soon, but… I mean, we'll always be friends -"

"Best friends," Blaine confirms. Kurt wants to smile, but his muscles refuse to let him.

"But if it's going to be even harder than this…"

"It's too far."

"It's too far," he agrees. The silence lasts a long time, broken only by their breathing and Kurt trying to hold back the oncoming tears. He can't imagine breaking up with Blaine, but it wouldn't be fair to either of them to stay together. Not if they could never see each other.

"Do what makes you happy, Blaine," Kurt says softly. "That's all I want. If you're happy, then… everything else comes second."

Blaine sighs. "I need to think this through."

"Okay."

"I'll… call you soon."

Kurt only lets the tears fall when they hang up, shaking uncontrollably and clutching his phone in his lap. It isn't fair. Of course, he wants Blaine to be happy, but he doesn't know how to handle _this. _It's too far. He can't do it. He _can't._

But he can't let Blaine go, either.

* * *

><p>They avoid the subject until it's impossible <em>not<em> to anymore, after Kurt knows for a fact that Blaine has sent in all of his applications. It almost sends him into a panic attack just to bring up the subject during their Skype chat, but he steels himself and does it anyway. No more breaking down in front of Blaine, he vows; no more tears.

"Where did you apply?" He holds his breathe and waits, searching Blaine's face over the computer screen for any hint of any answer.

"OSU, just to be safe," Blaine says, and Kurt nods; he doubts that Blaine will have trouble getting into any school he wishes, but it's good to have a backup plan. "And Julliard, and NYU, and Columbia."

Kurt waits for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn't come. Blaine just looks at him expectantly, so much like his first day at McKinley, waiting for Kurt to realize that he'd transferred, his little smile so teasing and excited. Kurt tries to shove away the hope flaring up in his chest.

"Not UCLA?" he asks, quiet and unsure.

"Not UCLA," Blaine confirms.

"But…" Kurt's hands flail at his sides helplessly, the pessimistic side of him saying that this isn't possible; he never gets everything he wants. "But that was your dream; your _plan!_"

"Only because it was the only option I'd considered. So I have a new plan."

"You can't. I won't let give up what you really want for me," Kurt insists.

"Kurt, stop." He does, immediately, holding his breath and waiting. "I talked to Ms. Pillsbury. For some guidance, you know?"

"That is her specialty," Kurt murmurs. Blaine just grins.

"Surprisingly, she didn't have pamphlets to fit my exact situation, but we talked for a long time. Just weighing my options, thinking about what I actually want out of the schools I was thinking about." Kurt nods, encouraging him to go on. "But mostly, we talked about where I see myself in the future, depending on what school I choose. And with UCLA, I didn't really see myself going anywhere in particular."

Kurt swallows. "And in New York?" He whispers.

Blaine just smiles. "I told her that I could see myself going into music education." Kurt can't hide a little grin there; he _knew_ that Blaine would go for that. "Which, obviously, I can learn just about anywhere. But once I started talking about it, it was like I could see _everything; _our whole life together. It was - god, it was beautiful, Kurt. Before you, I would have been fine ending up in any city, but you want New York – and I just want you. You're my dream now."

Kurt covers his mouth over his hand - he's not going to cry, he's _not_, but he's having trouble convincing his body of that. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it."

If Blaine were here, Kurt would throw himself into his arms and kiss him until they couldn't breathe, but, of course, he can't. Just a few more months and he will.

"I love you, _so_ much," he says instead, his voice a little watery, because really, there's nothing more to say. Blaine's smile is as bright as the sun, and it spreads to Kurt as well. He laughs, more in relief than at anything amusing. "You're coming to New York," he says, as if confirming it to himself.

"If I can get in, yeah."

"Don't talk like that; there's no way you won't get in," Kurt says fiercely, almost vicious in his unquestioning belief. The bashful way Blaine looks at him is enchanting, and, on impulse, Kurt reaches out as if to touch his face, fingers meeting with the cool glass of his computer screen. Blaine mimics his movement, their fingertips lining up together, and his Adam's apple bobs with trying to hold back some unnamable emotion. Kurt closes his eyes and imagines he can feel the warmth of Blaine's palm from so far away. It's been such a long time without any sort of touch.

"Not so long now," Blaine whispers, as though reading Kurt's mind. There are times when Kurt has his doubts, days when he honestly doesn't know if he and Blaine will make it, but right now?

Now, even when those doubts are still there, he can push them aside, because he _has_ to believe that they can work.

**1. **

Blaine can't stop grinning, even though everyone on the bus is looking at him as if he's insane. It had been difficult, in his last conversation with Kurt, to keep his plan a secret. He still wasn't sure that Kurt hadn't seen right through it, given how many times he gave Blaine weird looks and asked him why he kept giggling at random times.

Now, it's the middle of the night, and he's on his way to New York City. The bus seats are hard and uncomfortable, and there are only so many games of Angry Birds he can play on his phone, but the look on Kurt's face when he gets there is going to make it all worth it_._

For now, he has ten hours and five-hundred-and-seventy-two miles to kill.

* * *

><p>Blaine stretches out as much as he can, using his backpack as a pillow, and tries to sleep, his head is full of thoughts of thoughts of Spring Break with his boyfriend – just him and Kurt and New York City.<p>

The problem is that, once he gets off the bus, he isn't sure where he is. He figures out quickly enough that he's not within walking distance of Kurt, so he hails a cab and asks the driver to take him to campus. Blaine pulls out his phone as the cabbie starts to drive, dialing Kurt's number.

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt yawns when he picks up. "Wow, it's early for you on a Saturday." It's nearly 11:00, but Kurt has a point. "…Are you driving?"

"Nope," Blaine says cheerfully. "In a cab."

"…Oh. Why?"

"I'm on my way to campus and I'm not sure how to get to your dorm."

Kurt yawns again. "To my dorm? Baby, what are you talking a... bout…"

He trails off, and Blaine's stomach twists in anticipation. "You didn't_."_

"I did."

"_Oh my god, Blaine!" _He shrieks so loudly that Blaine holds the phone away from his ear and he can still hear him, earning a dirty look from the cabbie. "I can't believe this! I love you I love you I love you _-"_

Blaine laughs, deciding to interrupt before Kurt can babble too much. "Want to give me directions for the driver?"

"Yes, of course – just, I cannot believe you _-"_ He starts rattling off an address, which Blaine relayss to the cabbie, who nods and changes his course accordingly. "God, you couldn't give me even a little warning – this place is a wreck. Well, Jon's side is - Jonathan, wake up and put some pants on, at least try and prove to my boyfriend that you're not a complete barbarian - I should go, I need to get dressed, but I'll meet you outside!"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too, oh god_."_ Kurt hangs up and Blaine puts his phone away, chuckling to himself. This has to be one of the best ideas he has ever had, except maybe for kissing Kurt all those months ago.

The drive seems impossibly slow, even though at times he fears for his life with the way the cabbie is driving. It gives him a chance to look around at the wonder that is New York, but all of it dims in comparison to whom he's really here to see.

When the cab finally stops a short distance away from the dorm building, Blaine's eyes immediately lock on Kurt, waiting just outside the door. His heart speeds up, pounding in his ears so loudly that every other sound dims in comparison. He fumbles with his money and hands it to the cabbie, absently thanking him as he climbs out of the car. Kurt looks at him, mouth falling open and eyes widening. He looks _beautiful_, which Blaine already knew, but he looks taller and more regal than ever before, like the freedom of New York has straightened his spine and made him into an adult while Blaine wasn't watching.

For an inexplicable moment, as they watch each other across the courtyard Blaine is terrified. What if he isn't what Kurt needs anymore? What if Kurt realizes that he's just a ridiculous child and that Kurt deserves better? What if things are just too awkward after so long? What if they just don't work anymore?

Kurt makes the first move, one small step, and that unfreezes Blaine and allows him to take a step of his own - and then he can't stop himself; he's running as fast as he can with his backpack weighing him down, and Kurt's gray scarf flutters in the wind behind him as he rushes to meet Blaine. They crash together, arms coming to wrap around necks and waists, and though Blaine has grown an inch or so, he's still the perfect height to bury his face into the spot where Kurt's shoulder meets his long, elegant neck. Kurt's hands ball into fists, gripping his shirt, and he presses kisses to the side of Blaine's head, whispering _I love you I love you I love you _like a mantra.

_I'm home,_ Blaine thinks.

Eventually, they part. One of Kurt's hands stays on Blaine's shoulder as he pulls away, and the other touches his face, as though trying to make sure he's real. "_How?_" he whispers.

"It's spring break. Took the bus." Blaine grins, leaning into Kurt's touch. He desperately wants to kiss Kurt, but there are other people lounging around the courtyard, and he's not sure if Kurt's opinion on PDA has changed.

Kurt's thumb strokes a line across Blaine's cheekbone before he lets his hand drop, laughing softly. "Um… do you want to get coffee? There's a little place down the street. It's not the Lima Bean, but…" He shrugs.

He still feels groggy and a little achy from sleeping on the bus, but every feeling that doesn't have to do with Kurt can be easily pushed aside right now. "Coffee sounds amazing. Lead the way?"

They fall into step together easily and Kurt's hand automatically reaches for his, entwining their fingers, and a warm contentment settles in Blaine's chest. They can _do _this here – hold hands without fear. It's an incredible feeling. He lets his thumb stroke Kurt's knuckles, offering a smile when Kurt glances at him. He blushes, looking pleased.

It only takes a few minutes to get to the coffee shop, and, other than taking their orders - Kurt orders for both of them, giving Blaine a look when he starts pulling out money for payment - they remain silent until they sit down. Blaine sets his backpack next to his seat, relieved to have the thing off his back for a moment.

He's not sure what to say to Kurt - they can talk for hours on the phone or Skype, but he has no idea how to break the ice when he's never run out of things to say before.

They don't stop holding hands across the table, glancing at each other through half-lidded eyelashes. "You look… different," Kurt finally says - he looks a little lost as he says it, as if even he isn't quite sure what he means.

"Oh?"

"Older."

"Oh."

"It's a good thing," Kurt assures him, stumbling over the words. "You're more, I don't know – mature. Not that you weren't before, just - never mind, I don't know what I'm saying."

Blaine's lips quirk up into a smile. "I get it," he says, because he was just thinking the same thing about Kurt, who has continued his trend of, somehow, growing more ridiculously beautiful with every passing year. He remembers the broken boy he'd first known – small and scared, all hunched shoulders and the tiniest amount of baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. It's the same boy he sees now, but he's grown so much. Blaine is just honored that he's gotten to see any of the process. "You look good, too – amazing, actually."

Kurt tries and fails to hide a bashful grin, and murmurs, "God, this is surreal."

Blaine takes a sip of his coffee, burning the back of his throat. "It's okay, though?" he says, the statement coming out like a question as he tries to ignore the pain. "It's not… like, weird? I wanted to surprise you."

"Oh, Blaine." Kurt smiles, and Blaine instantly relaxes. "Of course it's okay, just… I think I'm still in shock. Of _course_ I'm happy you're here. I do wish our spring breaks coincided; it's going to be boring when I have to go to class during the day. Assuming that you're staying the week, that is?" Kurt bites his lip, looking unsure.

"As long as I can get away with." Blaine grins. "Dad actually pitched in on funding the trip, so I'm set."

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "How did you manage _that?" _

"It was his idea." Kurt's eyes grow even wider. "He noticed that I'd been… well, I was pretty miserable without you. When he realized what was up, I guess he felt bad for not letting me stay home for Christmas and got me a bus ticket."

"I thought he _hated _me."

Blaine shakes his head. "Nah, he's just… standoffish. And he doesn't really get the whole 'gay' thing, obviously. But he's trying. That's what's important, right?"

Kurt expression softens, and he nods, squeezing Blaine's hand gently. "I'll have to send him flowers or something." He shakes his head in disbelief. "This is amazing."

"It is."

They sit there in silence for a while, but this time, it isn't so awkward. Their feet knock together under the table, and, without thinking about it, Blaine runs the toe of his shoe up the inside of Kurt's leg – not very high, just an absentminded touch for the sake of touch. Kurt chokes a little on his coffee, but he doesn't let anything slip otherwise.

"So," he says, clearing his throat. "What are you planning to do with your time in New York City?"

Blaine shrugs. "I hadn't thought about it, really," he admits. "I guess taking a tour of campus would be nice, but other than that… as long as I'm with you, I'm good."

The dazed, lovestruck look on Kurt's face practically melts him right there in his seat He inches his foot higher, to the inside of Kurt's thigh, just to hear the way Kurt's breath hitches.

Kurt finishes his coffee, and when he sets the cup back down his eyes are dark. Blaine shivers pleasantly under his gaze.

"You know," Kurt murmurs, "I may or may not have convinced Jonathan to stay out of the dorm today and tonight. To give us a little…time."

"Mmm, _really?_"

Kurt smirks and leans across the table, glancing around before pressing the quickest, softest of kisses to Blaine's lips. It's such a brief touch but it still sends fire through Blaine's veins, drying out his throat and making his hands itch to touch the boy in front of him. Then Kurt is standing up, that smug half-grin still on his face, and he raises an eyebrow at Blaine.

"Coming?"

Blaine knocks over his chair in his haste to stand up, and Kurt laughs at him all the way out the door.

* * *

><p>Kurt fumbles with the keycard, shuddering as Blaine presses up behind him, arms wrapped around his waist as Blaine kisses the side of his neck. "You're incredible distracting," Kurt murmurs, sliding the key in upside down for the third time. Blaine just smiles against Kurt's skin and then nibbles lightly at Kurt's earlobe.<p>

Yeah, they need to be in this room right fucking _now_.

He twists around and pulls Blaine in for a kiss as he steps backwards through the door, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Blaine breaks away with a laugh, looking up at Kurt fondly as he slides his backpack off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Kurt reaches around Blaine to nudge the door closed without pulling out of his embrace, because any time spent not touching Blaine in some way is time wasted.

Blaine kisses Kurt again, gently on the lips, but when he goes to pull away Kurt cups Blaine's cheeks in his hands and brings him back again, turning the kiss deep and insistent. Blaine doesn't miss a beat, opening his mouth and letting out a low groan when Kurt slips his tongue inside. _Fuck, _it's been so _long, _and Blaine tastes just as good as he remembers. He's hungry for it, for all of him, everything Blaine has to give.

He takes Blaine's hand and steps back, smiling as he leads his boyfriend toward the small, twin-sized bed. Blaine doesn't say anything, just sits down next to Kurt and pushes lightly at his chest, making him lay back against the pillows so that he can kiss him. Kurt breaks the kiss to press his lips against Blaine's jaw, scratchy with stubble, the way he's been fantasizing about for ages. It's a light, teasing touch, and it makes Blaine squirm when he works his way down his neck and right under his ear. "_Kurt,_" he whines.

"Hmm?" Kurt licks at the shell of his ear and then bites lightly. Blaine swears under his breath, and tugs Kurt's shirt out so that he can slip his hand underneath and feel the smooth skin previously hidden from him. Kurt _really _likes where this is going, but it isn't getting there fast enough. He wriggles out from underneath him and sits up, loving the way Blaine's eyes darken as he pops out each button of the shirt, one by one. He slips it off his shoulders after he's done, and Blaine's breath falters.

"God, _Kurt_," he sighs. Kurt weighs the possibility of a full-on strip tease, considering by how much Blaine seems to like seeing him take his clothes off, but he wants Blaine to be naked with him even more than he wants to torture Blaine, and he's not dressed charmingly enough, anyway. Maybe next time – they have a few days, after all, and Kurt plans to make the most of them.

Kurt fiddles with the hem of Blaine's shirt before pulling it up over his head in one quick motion. He lets his eyes trail across Blaine's bare chest. "Your arms got even _bigger,_" he grumbles. "How is that fair?" It's true – Blaine has filled out in the months they've been apart, fully growing into his body. It's incredibly depressing that Kurt missed seeing it happen, but he can't complain about the result. It's _so _unfair that his boyfriend is this handsome.

Kurt scoots forward, ducking his head to kiss the chest he had just been admiring. He swirls his tongue around a nipple, a tremor of pure _want _running through him when Blaine gasps at the sudden touch. This is going too slow - he wants to see and touch every inch of Blaine and he wants to do it _now_.

"Clothes. Off," he breathes. Blaine scrambles to unzip his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxer-briefs and tossing them to the floor - Kurt's take a little longer, being so tight, but they're soon tossed across the chair near his bed. Blaine is on him as soon as he gets free of his clothes, kissing him hard, and, without warning, his hand wraps tight around Kurt's cock.

"Oh_fuck." _He throws his head back and moans. Blaine isn't wasting any time and Kurt _loves_ it. They have plenty of time to savor it later, to make it long and drawn out, but right now Kurt just needs _something. _His hips roll up into Blaine's fist as Blaine pumps him fast but steady.

He's still having a hard time believing that this is _real, _that Blaine is actually here, in New York, in Kurt's room, with his hand on Kurt's dick. He keeps thinking that, at any moment, he's going to blink and realize he's been asleep in the middle of a particularly boring lecture (which had, embarrassingly enough, happened after he had to pull an all-nighter – he'd nearly cried when he'd realized that Blaine was not, in fact, sucking him off under the desk). Except there's no way even his sex-deprived brain could fake something as wonderful as Blaine's hand, even though he's already well acquainted with it.

"Fuck, the _sounds_ you make," Blaine breathes hot against Kurt's skin. Kurt wonders how long he's been making these gasping moans without knowing it. He should probably be more considerate of the people on the other side of his wall, but he's been forced to listen to them with their significant others plenty of times, so screw them. "I missed this so _much…_"

Kurt chokes back a moan and clings to Blaine's shoulders, gripping his bicep to feel the muscles flex, pressing his face into the crook of Blaine's neck and breathing in the scent of clean sweat and everything _Blaine_.

"Wait, wait, stop," he gasps. If Blaine keeps going at this pace, Kurt's not going to last, and he doesn't want it over _that _quickly. Blaine backs off, blinking at Kurt. Kurt smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way, and kisses Blaine gently. "Too much," he murmurs, and then he pushes Blaine away, pressing him down into the mattress. Blaine goes willingly, just watching Kurt with dark, curious eyes.

He clamps his lips down around Blaine's nipple again, though they aren't as sensitive as Kurt's are, not enough to really get him going. It still makes Blaine squirm, though, even more so when Kurt rolls the now spit-slick nub between his fingertips, eliciting a soft groan. His other hand massages Blaine's thigh, just for the sake of touch, and he deliberately comes inches away from Blaine's cock before backing off again. Blaine's cock is fully hard and leaking pre-cum and he hasn't even been _touched _yet.

"Kurt, _please,_" he moans.

"Please _what?_" Kurt teases. He keeps touching and kissing lightly in all the weird little places that drive Blaine insane – right around his bellybutton, or that place on his ribs that was put there just for Kurt to kiss – but never lets it build up to anything. Blaine will say he hates him for the teasing, but Kurt knows better, knows that this is the perfect way to make him scream Kurt's name – and he _really _wants to hear that. "What do you need?"

"You, need _you_."

"I'm here," he coos. "You have me." _You'll always have me. _"What do you need, baby?" He bites down on Blaine's shoulder, barely more than a little pinch with his teeth, but it makes Blaine's hips jerk up, trying to get friction on his neglected dick from thin air.

"_Fuck, _Kurt!"

"You have to _say _it," he says, almost singsong.

"Need you to fuck me," Blaine growls.

Kurt lifts his head, blinking. "Really?"

Blaine blushes, going from shameless to shy in three seconds flat. "You don't - it's okay, you don't have to -"

"No, no, _fuck_, it's fine," Kurt says, unconciously licking his lips, throat going dry. "I just, I didn't know – we'd never done that, before." They'd only gotten the chance to do this twice since they started, well, _doing _things ('sexually active' is a set of words that he's mortified to even think), just because it was harder to plan alone time for _that_ than a rushed handjob in the backseat. Mouths and hands, they had the hang of – once they started, it was hard to stop, and then most moments they could get alone were spent learning how to make each other fall apart. But the rest, they aren't that experienced with, and both times, Kurt had been receiving. He hadn't even realized that Blaine _wanted _that.

Blaine sits up, giving Kurt a quick kiss. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"I do," Kurt replies, his mouth suddenly dry. Oh _god, _does he. As much as it hadn't occurred to him before, now he doesn't know why they haven't done it sooner.

"Yeah?" Blaine still looks nervous. "I just, I don't know - it's just something I've thought about -"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupts gently. He returns the kiss, smiling as he pulls away. "Don't worry. I want to do it. Do you have…"

"You don't?"

He shrugs. "Wouldn't need them without you around, would I?" Blaine seems to melt a little, his smile so adoring that it melts Kurt in turn.

"Yeah. In my backpack." He gets up, opening his backpack and pulling things out – mostly clothes, left forgotten on the floor - until he finds an unreasonably large box of condoms. Kurt raises an eyebrow, and Blaine shrugs helplessly. "You never know," he mumbles.

"I love you," Kurt sighs. "Now come over here."

"Bossy." Blaine grabs a bottle of lube and tosses it on the bed, along with the condoms, before climbing back up himself.

"You love it."

"I really do."

"Lay back down," Kurt says. His heart pounds in anticipation – a little nervousness, mostly excitement – of what he'll get to do to – _with_ – Blaine. Maybe he is a top, after all.

"Come on," Blaine pleads, hands reaching out for Kurt. Kurt leans over, kissing him softly before he reaches for the bottle of lube. He slicks up his fingers, ignoring what drips onto the bed – he probably used way more than necessary, but better safe than sorry – and tosses the bottle aside again.

Kurt's throat is suddenly dry as he presses his index finger to Blaine's hole, gently massaging at first. Blaine sighs, his eyelids fluttering shut. "Okay?" Kurt asks anxiously.

"Yeah, c'mon. Don't worry; I do this to myself all the time."

"That really shouldn't be as hot as it is." Kurt holds his breath and slips the very tip of his finger inside of Blaine, and his breath shudders out again when he presses in further and feels how _tight_ Blaine is. Blaine tenses for a second, and Kurt worries that he's hurting him – but then Blaine relaxes, and Kurt takes it as a signal to keep going, further and further, until his finger is all the way inside. He gives Blaine a little time to get used to it, then pulls out and presses back in.

Blaine gasps, then moans, and _fuck_, if Blaine feels this hot and tight around his finger, Kurt can hardly imagine what he'll feel like around his cock. He fucks his finger into Blaine a few more times before Blaine gasps out, "More, _please_."

Kurt nods and pulls out – Blaine whimpering at the loss – dribbling a little more lube on his fingers before he puts two back in. Blaine's eyes flutter closed again, his neck arched back as he groans at the contact. "God, you're beautiful like this," Kurt whispers as he stretches him, slowly and gently. And Blaine _is, _warm golden skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing under each touch. He loves how expressive Blaine is, the way he reacts to every single touch Kurt has to give.

Soon, he's open enough to fit a third, and by then Blaine is fucking himself down on Kurt's fingers, one hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets as the other strokes over his own cock.

"Kurt, fuck, I need it," he gasps, "need _you, _do it -"

Kurt swallows, suddenly more anxious than before. He's really going to do this. "Okay. Yeah. Okay." He grabs a condom from the box, but for some reason his hands shake as he tries to tear the wrapper. He sighs in frustration after the third attempt. "I'm sorry -"

"Hey, no, it's okay." Blaine sits up and takes his hands, squeezing them and giving Kurt a comforting smile. He takes the condom from Kurt's hands and opens it easily, and he never breaks eye contact as he slowly rolls it down onto Kurt's cock. Kurt's eyes close of their own accord, breath stuttering as Blaine strokes him a couple of times. When Kurt opens his eyes again, it's just in time to see Blaine bend down and press a light kiss to the tip of his latex-covered cock. It's bizarrely intimate, and for some reason Kurt feels choked up as he watches Blaine lie back down, all spread out and laid bare waiting for him, looking up with wide, open eyes. Blaine trusts him _so much, _even at his most vulnerable – _loves_ him, and sometimes, like right now, that fact hits Kurt with the force of a freight train. "You're amazing," Kurt says, taking another moment just to _look _at him. "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

Blaine smiles, encouraging him to go on. "You won't."

Kurt takes a deep breath and slicks himself up with a liberal amount of lube, and, after one more nod from Blaine, starts to push himself inside.

Blaine tenses at first, sucks in a sharp gasp, and Kurt immediately stops to give him time to adjust. When Blaine had done this to him the first time, he had been so, so patient, so slow and gentle, making sure it was good for him even though it was his first time, too, and Kurt wants, _needs_ it to be just as good for Blaine. But then Blaine lifts his knees and wraps his legs around Kurt's waist, ankles crossed and heels pressed into the small of his back, urging him forward. "It's okay, you can," Blaine breathes, and his voice is strained but he sounds so sure, and he doesn't stop pressing Kurt forward until their hips are flush together and there's not an inch between them anymore.

"God," Kurt chokes out, leaning down and touching his forehead to Blaine's chest. Blaine is like a vice grip around his cock, and it's almost too much. "God, Blaine, you feel so fucking _good."_

"You do, too," Blaine whispers, and he wraps an arm around Kurt to rub at his back, like he's the one who needs soothing. Kurt moves forward to kiss Blaine's face, hips shifting with the motion, and Blaine gasps aloud at the change. "_Kurt…_"

Kurt pulls out and then thrusts forward, the friction like heaven around his cock, and Blaine's head lolls to the side, groaning.

After that, it's like there's nothing but this, no distance that will be between them again before they know it, none of the tension they've had these past months. There's nothing but Blaine, his skin and his scent and his sweat, wrapped all around him, and Kurt can't stop himself from thrusting forward again and again, skin slapping together impossibly loud, unable to hide the moans escaping him.

Another thrust, harder this time, and Blaine's eyes shoot open. "_Oh - _there, fuck, right fucking _there,_" he cries out,, and Kurt keeps going at the same angle, trying to keep up a rhythm, but it's hard when he just craves _more more more._ He never dreamed that he would like this so much (yeah, getting fucked is wonderful, but he is _so _a top), but it's almost impossibly good – the way he slides in and out of Blaine, and the way Blaine just _takes _it, thrashing in the sheets every time Kurt hits his prostate. Blaine rolls his hips up to meet Kurt in a way that should be illegal – that's another thing Kurt loves, how shameless Blaine is.

Blaine's cock twitches against his stomach, shiny pre-cum left in its wake, and Blaine reaches down and starts to jerk himself off in time with Kurt's thrusts. "Kurt," he moans. "Kurt, Kurt, _Kurt-"_

It only takes a few strokes for Blaine to come, his whole body tensing, face scrunching up in a way that should be ridiculous but somehow isn't. That itself is almost too much for Kurt – he gets off on Blaine getting off more than anything else – and he keeps fucking Blaine through it with sharp, quick snaps of his hips, until Blaine starts to squirm. "Kurt, _fuck_, I can't," he gasps. "Too much, it's too much."

"Sorry!"Kurt stops immediately, though he's disappointed that he doesn't get to come while still inside of Blaine. He pulls out slowly, sitting up on his knees, and Blaine whimpers at the loss of contact even though it must be a relief. Kurt pulls off the condom and tosses it in the general direction of the trashcan, and the instant he looks back Blaine practically pounces on him, hands hot and tight where they grip his hips, press kisses to Kurt neck and collarbone and then his chest, and then _even lower. _Kurt's knees feel weak at the sudden possibility of Blaine's mouth on him, but he doesn't go for that. He kisses around Kurt's bellybutton and the inside of his thighs - _teasing him, _revenge for earlier. He licks at and the crease between Kurt's pelvis and his thigh, lapping up the sweat pooled there.

"Fuck," Kurt says through gritted teeth, tangling his fingers in Blaine's hair. "Stop it with the teasing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine says primly, all innocence, which has to be hard to achieve when your face is flushed from sex and your hair is sticking straight up and your kiss-swollen lips are an inch away from your boyfriend's cock, but Blaine is just that incredible. He nuzzles his face into the space he was just mouthing at and breathes in deep.

"Blaine Anderson, I swear to – FUCK-"

Without warning, Blaine sinks his mouth down around Kurt's cock, cheeks hollowing as he sucks _hard._ Kurt couldn't stop his hips from jerking forward even if he wanted to. Blaine gags just a little, and Kurt pulls back, breathing heavily. "Sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry -"

Blaine smiles. "I liked it, actually." Kurt raises his eyebrows, not sure how anyone could enjoy choking on dick, but… to each his own. "Come on," Blaine says, and, well, when Blaine Anderson tells you to fuck his mouth – his fucking _incredible _mouth, if Kurt does say so himself – you don't hesitate to do so. And anyway, he's glad for something else to fuck into – of course he wouldn't have made Blaine keep going, before, but he also was nowhere near done.

Blaine's fingers press into his hips, urging him forward. Kurt grips Blaine's hair just a little tighter – Blaine moans softly at that, _good to know_ – and he gives a few shallow, experimental thrusts. Blaine just takes him deeper_, _until the head of Kurt's cock hits the back of his throat, and then he swallows around it_._

"Oh _god, _fuck, _Blaine,_" Kurt babbles loudly, thrusting into Blaine's hot, wet mouth over and over. "You're so fucking _hot _for it, _oh…_" Blaine keeps eye contact with him the entire time, his eyes dark and blown wide with lust. Kurt loves how much Blaine loves doing this.

It's fucking sinful, the sight of Blaine's lips around his cock, his Adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows. Kurt lasts an embarrassingly short time, but he's been close for ages. He tries to give Blaine some warning to pull off, but Blaine just bobs his head faster, swallows more often, moans around him like the very taste of Kurt is ecstasy, and Kurt yells as he comes hard and fast down Blaine's throat.

He swallows every drop until Kurt is limp and oversensitive, and he tugs gently at Blaine's hair. Blaine pulls off with a wet pop, grinning up at Kurt with swollen red lips. "I missed the way you taste," he says, his voice hoarse.

Kurt lies down and pulls Blaine with him, ignoring how sticky they are with sweat and cum, pressing kiss after kiss to his face. "Love you," he mumbles. "Love you, _love you, _Blaine…"

"I love you, too." Blaine sighs in contentment and snuggles closer to Kurt, using his chest as a pillow. They stay silent for a while, their breathing still fast and sharp, but as they calm down Kurt hears Blaine mumble, "Best spring break _ever,_" before he starts to snore softly.

Kurt smiles and kisses the top of his head, shifting into a more comfortable position to watch Blaine until he, too, falls asleep.

* * *

><p>Blaine doesn't know where he is when he wakes up. The light is different from when he fell asleep, and everything is so <em>warm<em>; it's like he's in a cocoon. His fingers brush over smooth skin, and when he opens his eyes, he's faced with white sheets and a pale shoulder.

Kurt.

He melts further into the embrace, blinking into full wakefulness. "Hi," Kurt says, looking down at him with a soft smile.

"Hi," Blaine says, and wonders how he ever survived not waking up to this. "What time is it?"

Kurt twists his head around to look. "Quarter 'til four."

"Sorry."

"What for?"

Blaine shrugs. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." He feels better for it, though, the fatigue from barely sleeping on the bus wearing off a little.

Kurt hums softly, his fingers tracing little spirals on Blaine's shoulder. "Don't be; I dozed too. And then I showered and ordered Chinese, and likely traumatized the delivery man with the pretty naked boy in my bed."

"Oh, god." Blaine looks down at his bare chest – clean; Kurt must have cleaned the sticky cum from his stomach as he slept – and tugs the sheet up a little further in his lap, although the damage is already done. Kurt's hair is wet from his shower and he smells clean and fruity, but Blaine, the bed, and the whole room still smell like sex. The idea of getting up and showering doesn't seem worth it, though, unless maybe he can get Kurt to shower with him. _There's _an appealing thought.

He wonders if he could convince Kurt to just stay in bed and have sex with him all week long. Maybe they could have breaks to occasionally eat , too. Maybe.

"You should have seen his face. it was priceless."

tries and fails to hide his grin. "Does there happen to be any of that Chinese left?" he asks hopefully, because his stomach started growling at the mere mention of food.

"Go ahead."

The unpleasantness of getting up and finding the food outweighs how hungry he is, and Kurt's arms are so warm, so he doesn't move just yet. "You should have woken me up," he says. "I bet you were bored." If he's honest with himself, he's also a little sad that he missed even three hours of Kurt, even though they have to sleep sometime.

"You're adorable when you sleep. It was fine." Kurt rolls over on his side, still smiling that smile that makes Blaine feel like the best person in the world, because no matter how screwed up he is sometimes? He still put that smile on Kurt Hummel's face. "I still can't believe you're actually here."

All at once, Blaine feels a little choked up, but he smiles through it. "Neither can I."

"I…" Kurt swallows. "I don't think I actually realized, until you got here, how hard it's really been without you."

"… Really?" Blaine blinks. All this time, he'd imagined Kurt frolicking about New York (Kurt would say that he _never frolics, thank you very much, _but the idea is still there), making new friends, making a start at his future, while Blaine moped around with Tina, who misses her boyfriend just as much, and just tried to get the very best grades he possibly could so that he could join him. Not that Kurt _hadn't _been doing those things, but… maybe it was just because he didn't want to think about Kurt being sad, but it honestly hadn't occurred to him that Kurt spent as much time missing him as he did missing Kurt. How could you have time to mope, in New York?

A guilty part of him is glad – no, _glad_ isn't the right word, and maybe there _isn't _a right word - that Kurt missed him, too. He _knows _that Kurt missed him, but knowing it and _feeling _it, in every tender touch that Kurt offers him, every awed expression on his face, are two different things.

Kurt tilts his head to the side. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"I don't know," Blaine admits. Kurt continues to stare at him. "I guess I didn't realize you missed me that much."

"… What?"

Blaine gestures wildly. "It's _New York, _Kurt. It's your dream to be here. Why would you spend your time dwelling on me?"

Kurt's mouth drops open, and then closes again. He looks like a fish, but a really cute one. "You," he says after a few moments of blinking, "are an _idiot."_

"What-"

Kurt surges forward and kisses him, almost painfully, and Blaine returns it with all he has to give, despite his confusion. Kurt cradles Blaine's jaw in his hand, a bizarre contrast to the roughness of the kiss, and when Kurt pulls away, his breathing is heavy and his face is flushed.

"Um." Blaine stares up at him, stunned.

"I have missed you _so _much, Blaine," Kurt says breathlessly. "I - I can't even bear it, sometimes, I just want to jump on a plane and go home just to be with you. It's like I can't _breathe _without you_._ Don't think that I don't wish you were with me every single day, just because I – I don't always know how to tell you what I'm feeling or I don't always have time to talk -"

"I'm sorry-" Blaine is interrupted by Kurt's frustrated groan as he lets his head fall down onto Blaine's shoulder. "Kurt, I didn't mean…" He trails off, unsure of what he actually did or didn't mean.

"No, I just…" Kurt lifts his head, and when their eyes meet, his sparkle, burn with such passion that Blaine can't breathe. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. The _best _thing. You know that, right? I know that I'm not very good at showing it sometimes, but I try."

"Of course I know that," Blaine says soothingly. "You are too. God, I – I don't know how I've made it this long without you." Blaine runs his fingers through Kurt's damp hair, and Kurt closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. "But you – you _are_ happy here, right? Even though I'm far away?" That's the most important thing of all.

Kurt nods. "I am. It's hard, a lot of the time, but I'm happy. It makes it easier knowing you'll be joining me. What about you?"

"I'm happy here, too."

Kurt snorts. "I meant in _Lima_."

Blaine smiles softly. "It's lonely. I don't know." It's strange, because they talk about what's going on in their lives every day, but it's different face to face – everything is. Better, without a doubt, but different. "I'm not _unhappy, _but I can't say I'm happy, either. I've never really felt at home there_._"

"Mmm." Kurt knows that feeling, Blaine thinks, better than anyone else.

He snuggles closer to Kurt, closer to his warmth, and murmurs, "_You're _my home."

Kurt doesn't reply for a while; just closes his eyes and touches his forehead to Blaine's. Their breath mingles, hot between them, and Kurt keeps on tracing nonsense patterns up and down Blaine's bare arm, as though he can't bear not to touch him for even a moment.

Blaine wants to stay right here for the rest of his life.

"Thank you," Kurt finally says, his voice strained like he's been holding back tears, but when Blaine looks into his eyes they're dry.

"For what?"

"Everything. Being here. Being mine."

Blaine smiles. All these months of doubt, and in an instant they all wash away. In a few days he'll have to leave, but soon they'll have the summer, and after that, the future - he doesn't know what it might hold, but he knows that there will be one. It's terrifying, growing up, but Kurt will be with him every step of the way. They're going to make it, he believes that – he _knows _it, with every inch of his heart.

"Always."


End file.
